Last Thursday, the day before Christmas Eve, Jeebus came home from work and told me his mother and her husband were two-and-a-half hours from our home and were staying with us until Monday or Tuesday. Why no one told either my husband or me this earlier is beyond my understanding–except that my husband’s brothers are horrible at communication. So next time Beavis tells me that he wishes language was never invented because there are better way to communicate other than talking I am bringing up getting surprised with weekend guests.
My husband and I have never spent any amount of time around his mother’s new husband until this past weekend. There is probably a good reason for this, but we decided to make the best of it. Honestly, I’ve always been a little creeped out by the Mother Trucker’s new husband and it honestly has nothing to do with him being a trucker. Instead, I’ve always thought perhaps I was judging him too harshly since he shares the same first name as my creepy neighbor with the porn parties or that maybe I was still pissed at him for breaking up my in-law’s marriage two years ago, but I think I am passed all that. Rather, I think it’s been intuition all along…
Well, you know how Beavis gets under my skin with the idiotic arguments he comes up with? Well, finally I had it Christmas Eve when he came home and questioned my husband and me on our choice to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. He said that we shouldn’t be watching something Christmasy just because it was Christmas. Instead he wanted to watch a zombie movie because he says that Jesus is really zombie since He died and came back to life. Unfortunately, he doesn’t understand in his pea-sized self-righteous mind that just because someone doesn’t believe the same way as he does that he shouldn’t try to insult them over it. So, I had some very choice non-typable words to say to him Christmas Eve which were just as insulting. This, of course, resulted in him storming out of the house and me locking the door behind him. All in front of the Mother Trucker‘s husband who stood there dumbfounded on what to do next. Which is a good thing because I probably would have yelled at him too. It was right then and there that I wanted to tell Beavis that he needed to go back to Utah with his mother when they left, and I would have except my husband was trying to calm me down.
So, I haven’t talked to Beavis for four days. Because I believe that’s the best way to get along with Beavis.
Do you ever feel when you’re around your in-laws that you are going to explode? Well, after yelling at Beavis Christmas Eve, all day Christmas Day and Sunday I was on edge. Any moment I felt like I was going to scream whether it was because I thought the Mother Trucker’s husband was too impatient with the kids or because I thought I couldn’t stand the smell of him any longer. Finally, Sunday evening I had enough. I left my home at 6:45 and didnt return until after 11 pm. I felt I had two choices that evening: 1.) Break the Sabbath and go shopping to get away or 2.) Fornicate with my old buddy Jack Daniels. Trying my best to be a good Mormon, I decided breaking the Sabbath was the better of the two evils. Besides, I knew if I had a shot of whiskey, I’d drink the whole bottle, plus Jeebus’ sake, and maybe even my can of hairspray. Breaking the Sabbath is a lot easier for me to come back from than drinking alcohol. I’d like to blame that one on my grandmother.
And then when I got back home, I felt really, really horrible for breaking one of the Ten Commandments. As much as I tried to rationalize in my mind that I did it for all the right reasons, the Still Small Voice kept nagging me that I shouldn’t have gone out shopping on the Lord’s day.
Then something wonderful happened. Jeebus was talking to me last night and told me that the Mother Trucker’s husband believes that he is a chosen prophet of God. So, I sat back, laughed a whole lot, tried to imagine the Lord’s prophet as a beer drinking, smelly, trucker that looks twenty years older than he really is and confirmed that my intuition was right about him being nuts, and then realized that maybe me breaking the Sabbath perhaps wasn’t so horrible after all. I mean, if the prophet made me do it, it can’t be that bad can it?
Oh, and when they left to go pick up a load in East Texas the “prophet” had to have my husband and me jump his big rig since the batteries were dead. How many brownie points do you suppose I get for that in heaven?
And you thought your in-laws were insane.
